


He Will Burn You With The Heat of His Eyes

by CutiePie4173



Category: Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera & Related Fandoms
Genre: BDSM, Costume Parties & Masquerades, Cunnilingus, Dom Erik, F/M, First Attempt at Self Insert, Glove Kink, Mask Fetish, Overstimulation, Teasing, demon kink, mask kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:27:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27439567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CutiePie4173/pseuds/CutiePie4173
Summary: An attempt at a self-insert.The only prompt? "Erik x Someone with a Mask Fetish"
Relationships: Erik | Phantom of the Opera/Reader
Comments: 6
Kudos: 56





	1. Chapter 1

This whole affair was somehow both guilty and exciting. Staring up at the doors that seemed to open just for you into the sea of swirling gowns and pristine tuxedos of hundreds of colors, you felt dizzy. As graciously as you could manage, you stepped into the large ballroom, ignoring the familiar tug upward at the corners of your lips. No, stay calm, everything is fine. Just a few more steps…

You found yourself a place to stand at the top of the large staircase, looking down into the room. What a sight! A room full of people, and you doubted you could identify a single one of them. That was the point of the masquerade, after all. The slight twist in your stomach coiled tighter at that thought - there was beauty, yes, but also mystery in this room. And where there was mystery, there was darkness.

People acted differently here. You watched as they drank and smoked and said the most blush-worthy things to each other. Masquerades were a dangerous sport, especially to the highest upper crust of Parisian society. And somehow, by the grace of God, you somehow found your way inside. No, it wasn’t the party nor the punch nor the gowns that made people act this way. You knew that. No… It was the masks. Masks always made people so brave, so daring, so… anonymous.

You swallowed down your excitement and gracefully swept down the stairs, careful to look regal and elegant so as not to arouse any suspicion of your identity. Creating this gown and mask had taken weeks, as had finding the right jewelry to accent your eyes - you were not going to be stopped now. Some people may find your mission… distasteful, but that was the beauty of the mask. No one would know it was you being distasteful in the first place. No one would know the thrill you felt as men stared at you through their masks, eating you alive with just the slivers of skin they allowed to show through. No one could see which women had their bosoms nearly pressed out of their gowns like harlots.

You didn't intend to dance with anyone or socialize. No, something in your mind that was surely twisted simply wanted to observe. You attempted to look bored and disinterested, ignoring the little thrills you got when a particularly beautiful eye caught your own. That was something these people didn’t understand: It isn’t about what’s underneath the mask. That wasn’t why people attended Masquerades.

After an hour or so of subtly watching the couples (and occasionally groups) swap kisses and groping touches, a pang of guilt hit your stomach. It felt more like voyeurism like this, and it was different than when you had watched them arrive from your friends flat down the block from the opera. Perhaps you should go. You turned and began to leave, but a flash of black on your left had you standing stock-still.

Peering to the right, only turning your head a few degrees, you saw him. A demon, definitely, given the horns and fangs and sleek black appearance. You had seen him a few times tonight, though he did not appear to have anyone on his arm, nor any friends to speak of. He was… He was observing too. Someone else was observing this party besides you. A new feeling bloomed in your chest - perhaps this creature was like you? You slowly, slowly sidestepped closer and closer, until you were standing beside him. If he noticed your movement, he made no indication. No, he wouldn’t make this introduction. You would have to.

You cleared your throat quietly. “I love the masquerade, don’t you?” The demon said nothing. After a moment, his head turned subtly towards you. You tried again. “I think the masks are simply divine.”

The demon snorted. “Ah, yes, wishing to know what’s underneath them?” A sudden wind had knocked the air from your chest. That voice. It was like angels and demons and every unknown thing all wrapped up into one. Never in your lifetime had you heard a voice like that. 

You swallowed and attempted to stay steady. “N-no, actually. Actually, I prefer the masks to the people beneath them.”

His head slowly turned towards you fully. His entire face was covered, only a hint of hair appearing behind his ears. The face of the mask was ghastly and evil, like a gargoyle, but the unmoving nature assuaged your fear that he may actually be a demon. “Why?” The voice asked on a breathy exhale.

Dear God, you wish you had grabbed a drink. “I think… I think people choose facades that are the opposite of who they really are.” You pointed into the crowd. “Swans are the less graceful dancers, the monkeys are the most serious, the queens are the poorest, and the princes are the crudest.”

His face did not turn to look at the crowd, still staring at you. “So what of you or I?”

The knot unraveled in your stomach. “I… I admit, I shouldn’t be here. Masquerading as one of you, as a person of wealth.” He hummed in response. “And you… Well, that is for you to reveal when the time comes.”

The demon paused for a long moment before extending a gloved hand to you. “Dance with me.”

It wasn’t so much a conscious decision as it was an automatic response to your own curiosity. The feeling of his warm leathery fingers around your own and the softness of his suit coat beneath your other hand as he pulled you in was more than distracting. It had been so long since you had danced so close to another person. Like with many, he seemed fairly confident with his mask on - though he did not grope or say any lewd remarks. He was silent, mostly, but pulled you close to his chest, letting himself tower over you. The rest of the party, and even the music, disappeared as you moved so smoothly across the floor.

The dance lasted minutes, perhaps an hour, before he suddenly stopped. His shoulders dropped as he looked off to one side. “It is nearly midnight. I must go.”

His hand slipped from yours, but you caught his shoulder. “Please. I cannot be seen either.” You knew that you had to leave, but somehow you were now dreading it. Never before had anyone bothered to speak to you at a party, but there was something about this stranger. And if the fantasy of dancing in this demon’s arms could last another hour… You would chance it.

Thoughtfully, he took your hand and lifted it to his porcelain lips, twisting his fingers between yours. “You wouldn’t want… You do not want to follow me.”

“Please.”

He stepped toward you, fingers still intertwined with yours, taking up your entire vision. He was at least a head taller than you, perhaps more, and his black clad figure posed a truly imposing silhouette against the rest of the party. “If I let you follow me… You must listen to me.’

You nodded. Perhaps he was simply careful of his privacy - he was clearly not supposed to be here either. Or perhaps he was rich and famous and powerful! You had little time to think as he pulled you alongside him, up the stairs and through several hallways, before pulling aside a curtain. He gestured for you to stay quiet, before pressing against the wall. To your shock, the wall pushed aside to reveal a passage.

“But how-”

Your words were silenced by the heat of his eyes as he pulled you into the passage, closing the wall behind you. And then… You were alone. With your masked demon, in the pitch darkness of the passage, with not a sound besides your heartbeat and the soft exhales of breath.

“Why did you follow me?” he murmured, taking a step toward you, forcing you to press your back into the wall. You could feel the heat of his breath on your exposed neck.

“I-” You swallowed. Between the lack of vision and sharpness of his cologne and the deep tone of his voice… Your voice began to fail you.

“Do not lie to me,” he growled, a hand resting on your throat. In the darkness, your chin tilted up, as if you could see him. “You have no reason to. Why are you truly here?”

Your cheeks burned in embarrassment at the thought of admitting your intentions, but suddenly you could feel your lips brush against the hard, smooth texture of his mask. Just lightly, no pressure at all, but the feeling was nearly overwhelming. “I… I like the masks…”

“You prefer the masks to the people beneath them…” he purred. The feeling of the mask’s cold lips was much more definite now, and the hand on your throat moved to cup the back of your neck. A deep thrill shot down your spine as your demon kissed you, deeply and recklessly, against the wall of that hidden passage.

The demon pulled away, hands still firmly on your body. “I could take you back, right now. Let you forget this. I’m not… You do not understand…”

You shook your head. “Please. This may be my only chance…”

At your words, your feet left the ground and strong arms wrapped around you. The demon plunged you deeper into the darkness.


	2. The Demon's Lair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy the smut.

The ornate room that opened up in front of you was not what you had expected. The demon had given no explanation nor any words at all, only racing along the passages and shadowy corridors while keeping his hand firmly in your own. After another strange gesture, a wall opened up into a large bedroom, lit only by a roaring fireplace. Candlelight flickered off the polished wood furniture and warmed the air comfortably as you stepped into the space, the wall closing behind you.

The demon was silent as he slipped the cloak from his shoulders, hanging it up on a hook on the boudoir door. Staring back behind his onyx facade, the golden eyes of the demon sent chills straight through you as he approached, suddenly pulling you in close to his chest. His shoulders felt tense under your hands and his breath was warm on your bare skin. He seemed unsure of what to do, though his grip was tight on your body as he crushed you into him.

You felt dizzy almost, between the warmth of the fire and the spiced scent of his skin. Only one thought grounded you in this dream-like world he had conjured out of thin air - the feel of his lips. Carefully, as to not shatter the moment, you tilted your head up and rocked onto your heels, pressing your soft, human lips to his cold, plaster ones. A soft strangled sound escaped his throat, but he gripped you harder against him, almost as if he could kiss back properly.

Suddenly, you were pushed back by a hand on your chest. The demon took on a defensive stance, half turned away from you. “I… I am not a gentle lover, I can’t… You deserve better… I have unusual tastes…”

After a moment, you knelt at his feet, looking up through your eyelashes. “You are not the only one. Please… I will never have this chance again.” You could barely believe the words that had escaped your lips or how you were sitting so provocatively, but this night had been a fantasy. And here you were, as if in one of your midnight dreams, at the feet of a beautiful masked lover, and somehow all inhibitions had been locked away outside.

He stared down at you, expression unreadable behind the demonic mask. "You will do as I say," he said finally. It wasn't a question, rather a command. You nodded, opening your mouth to speak, but he continued, "And you will not speak unless asked a question. Do you understand?" You felt a familiar tightening in your stomach and nodded once. Another growl from deep in his throat. "Answer me."

"Yes," you managed. He was overwhelming as he stood above you, so powerful and enigmatic.

He bent down to where his lips were just out of reach of your own. "You will call me 'Sir'. Let us try this again: Do you understand me?"

You swallowed, finding his eyes. "Yes... Sir."

He stood up straight and offered his hand, pulling you up to full height and flush against his body, enough that you could feel his breath through the small slit in the mask. "Take your clothes off. Slowly. Keep this on," he purred meaningfully, stroking the edge of your mask delicately with a finger. The cool touch of the soft leather alone sent warmth between your legs. He stepped back suddenly, leaning against the mantle of the fireplace. "Go on."

Standing there, in this strange creature's lair, there was a certain pang of anxiety. The rush of sexual energy quickly masked the knot in your stomach as you peeled off your gloves. You weren't exactly sure how to make this sexual, like so many of the burlesque performers you had seen in nightclubs, but he didn't seem to mind. He didn't move an inch with his painted expression fixated on you. Letting the gloves drop onto the floor, you reached behind your back and undid the closure of the dress, letting it fall. A sharp inhale caught your ear as your undergarments were revealed, but he didn't move.

Only once you stepped out of the puddle of fabric did he speak. "Stop," he commanded. He circled you slowly, with his head tilting up and down as he took you in. Was it the corset that fascinated him? Or the garters? ...Perhaps the heels? He stopped in front of you, a hand slowly raising up and resting on your throat. One small squeeze, just a touch of pressure, and the wetness between your legs grew. The pressure increased and he pushed you back against the four poster bed, your back pressed against one of the columns.

"You, my dear, look even more delicious beneath the dress." His deep baritone voice resonated in your chest as he pressed his frozen lips against yours once again, running his gloved fingers through your hair. They traced down to lightly trace your jawline and then followed your skin downward with a feather touch. Across your neck, your collarbone, your chest... The hand stopped just a moment to tweak your nipple, just hard enough to make you let out a small moan. Down, down, down it went, teasing past your stomach and hipbones, tracing a finger right down your center. You squirmed as he made contact with your clit, but tried to stay still - you had a feeling there were punishments abound for doing anything he had not approved.

The fingers slid between your legs brazenly, slipping your panties aside and running two fingers along your slit. A high-pitched moan escaped your throat and he pulled his fingers away from you. He inspected them closely, before a single soft laugh left him. "My, my... Wet already. Need me that badly, do you?"

You nodded, but remembered his earlier scolding. "Y-yes... Please..."

He clicked his tongue. "Forgetting the rules already?" You opened your mouth to apologize, but he continued. "Make it up to me by licking these fingers clean."

The fingers that were just inside you rested against your lower lip, and you hesitated. Slowly, you opened your mouth and he slipped his index and middle finger into your mouth and rested them against your tongue. So strange, tasting yourself like this, but you slowly licked and sucked the digits clean, reveling in the strange sensation of leather in your mouth. After a moment of staring at you with his burning golden eyes, he removed his fingers with a wet pop. He forwent the teasing this time, simply tracing the wet digits against your slit and rubbing over your clit playfully.

You squirmed against the column of the bed, and the hand around your throat tightened. "Don't you dare move. Look at me as I finger you," he commanded. As his yellow eyes caught your own, you couldn't quite imagine looking anywhere else. He was beautiful. Even though you saw nothing of his being but his eyes, you knew he was beautiful. How else could he make you feel heaven as he slipped his two fingers into you? The leather made them so smooth... And they were long and slender to begin with. They felt delicious inside you, relentlessly pumping and moving and stretching you, your only sounds the soft moans and gasps flowing from your lips.

"Yes... Beg me for more. Say it, my sweet," he purred, nuzzling his mask's nose against your cheek affectionately.

"Please! More... please... Sir..." Your eyes closed and you panted harder, feeling your muscles start to tighten and the high starting to take over. You could barely string sounds together to make words, but he seemed to be getting off on it. He slipped a third finger inside and you cried out, feeling him hold you tightly to keep you upright as you came. Through bleary eyes you saw only your dark demon.

He laughed, so low that you felt it rumble in his chest, and he pressed those cold masked lips against yours again. "My God, you are beautiful like this, my pet..." He gave you a moment to breathe and come back to your senses as he ran his smooth leather fingers across your breasts. 

When you finally inhaled deeply and blinked, he retightened his hand around your throat. "On the bed. All fours."

You swallowed and blushed brightly beneath your mask, but obeyed. Carefully you climbed onto the bed, reveling in the soft silk sheets and down pillows. He was rich, you knew it. You faced him, on your hands and knees, and looked up at him through your eyelashes. Drinking you in, he stepped closer and ran a hand through your hair. 

Another dark laugh. "Turn around."

Your thighs suddenly felt even more damp than before as you turned, slowly, to face away from him. The cool of his gloves swept over your hips slowly as he pulled your thighs apart. Suddenly, you felt heat at your center, the feeling of breath. You moaned, but he smacked your ass harshly. "Quiet. If you turn your head, it will be the last thing you see. Be a good girl."

A small shuffling sound, and then the shock of a wet tongue against your panties. A long lick from your clit to your puckered hole, causing a shudder down your spine. He growled and seized your panties with his hands, ripping them from you before licking you again. Your mind was blurry with expletives and sensations, unable to say anything as this demon licked and devoured you. He started with your ass, lapping like a dog, before delving lower and burying his tongue deep inside you. A skilled finger deftly slid down your abdomen and traced over your clit. You cried out again.

"Sir! Please! I-"

And the pleasure stopped. Another shuffle of clothing, and something else pressed against your pussy now. "Oh, no," he teased. "You're not going to cum until I'm inside you. Now beg. Tell me what you want."

Not daring to look behind you at this demon or at whatever monstrosity he had been hiding, you whimpered. "Please sir... I want you..."

A finger teased your clit. "Want me to what, pet?"

Your face reddened and you could feel yourself starting to drip. "I want... I want you to fuck me, s-sir..."

The tip of his cock slowly teased your entrance, collecting the moisture on the tip. "With what?"

Your face went even brighter. "Y-your cock..." you muttered, squirming under his touch.

Another soft laugh, and you felt the head of his cock slowly slip between your lips and slip inside. Fuck, he was thick. And he was taking his time too, slowly, slowly inching his cock deep inside. You swallowed thickly as he filled you, his cock seemingly never-ending. Never before had you felt something so deliciously large inside you. You couldn't help but squirm, and you felt a hand tangle in your hair.

"You can take another few inches, can't you, pet? You're a good girl, aren't you?"

Speech was an impossibility now as you felt him sink as deep as he could inside you and simply hold you there. Any little movement felt amplified a thousand times and he seemed to take pleasure in thrusting just a little, grinding his hips just a touch, ghosting over your clit just a moment until you were whimpering openly for more

Suddenly, he leaned over you and banded a strong arm across your chest, the other on your hip, and nearly slipped his cock out completely before thrusting back into you. The moan from your lips was much louder than you had intended, but you couldn't help yourself - it had been so goddamn long since you were taken like this. And by your faceless, masked demon... Who was this man? Not even names exchanged and he was thoroughly debauching you on his bed, calling you his pet. You could feel his breath on your neck as he kept thrusting, keeping his rhythm consistent. Every time he pulled out, the head of his cock pressed deliciously against a nerve inside you.

His husky voice rose up again. "Are you going to cum on my cock, little pet?" Your face went red at the scandalous words, though you knew you were in no position to argue. He continued. "You sweet cunt feels so tight... and you taste so delicious... Fuck!" His voice had you wet before, when he spoke so simply and pleasantly, but now with his lips forming words only whispered in alleyways, you were dripping. Nothing had ever felt even close to this.

The gloved hand slipped down to rest on your clit, slowly moving in tight circles. Your nerves were on fire, and the extra pleasure was overloading your senses. Mindless moans and expletives spilled from your throat, but he didn't seem to care. Your demon held on tightly and pistoned into your dripping pussy relentlessly while his fingers danced on your clit. No amount of squirming or even screaming gave you any relief from the wave of pleasure building inside you.

"Please... Sir! I... Please!" Tears formed at the corners of your eyes, muscles beginning to fail you. "Please! I can't... I... Too much..."

"Cum for me, pet," he ordered, voice sounding strained between his panting breaths. "Cum on my cock."

The wave just kept building and building, unable to stop until you felt the cliff's edge. With a scream, you came hard around him, shuddering violently. Your demon moaned and hissed as you felt him tighten his hold on you, filling you to the brim with his hot seed as your pussy walls clenched down on his cock. He refused to let you go until he had finished, managing a last few thrusts before letting you rest.

You fell onto the bed, letting yourself melt into the comfortable mattress and pillows. Your muscles refused to cooperate, unable to prop yourself up beyond turning on your side. After a moment, you looked up at him through your mask, still panting harshly. The demon had righted himself and was fixing his mask - it had come askew during your tryst. After a few privileged seconds of admiring the form in front of you, he caught your eyes.

"I don't even know your name, demon," you managed, a soft smirk on your lips. You could feel his cum starting to leak onto your thighs.

Kneeling on the bed, he placed a hand between your legs and stuffed two fingers inside you. He leaned down close, to where you could once again see those golden eyes flash. "And you never will. Take your time, pet. We have all night."


End file.
